


If Tomorrow Keeps This Secret

by Lady_Vibeke



Series: Cara Dune & Din Djarin: Tales of Two Space Idiots in Love [14]
Category: The Mandalorian (TV)
Genre: Awkward Conversations, Din is a Little Shit, Drunken Confessions, F/M, Friends to Lovers, Idiots in Love, Love Confessions, Not Actually Unrequited Love, Unrequited Love
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-05-11
Updated: 2020-05-11
Packaged: 2021-03-02 19:41:07
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,070
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24132235
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Lady_Vibeke/pseuds/Lady_Vibeke
Summary: Din nearly jumped when sheslammedthe tankard on the table, spilling a good part of its content in the process, then yanked her chair from under the table, flipped it around, and sank down straddling it with such a sullen face Din worried a little.“What's wro-”“I'm in love with you."Silence.Din was so taken aback by such a blunt and grudging admission he didn't really know what to say. There was a lot hewantedto say, starting from something so banal it could be hardly taken into consideration. So all he was able to utter, quite stupidly, was:"Oh."ORUnrequited love is a bitch. Except Din has no idea why Cara is so sure it's unrequited. He really shouldn't be so amused,but...
Relationships: Cara Dune/The Mandalorian (The Mandalorian TV)
Series: Cara Dune & Din Djarin: Tales of Two Space Idiots in Love [14]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1709416
Comments: 27
Kudos: 189





	If Tomorrow Keeps This Secret

**Author's Note:**

> Life is getting a bit better. Work is still madness but at least it's slightly more manageable madness, so my muse is timidly crawling out of her lair.
> 
> This one has been in the works for a while and I actually finished it yesterday but yesterday I posted Mother's Day story (thank you so much for your lovely comments, BTW!) so I decided to save this one for today.
> 
> Enjoy!

Something was wrong with Cara.

Din couldn't put his finger on it, but, judging by the miffed expression painted on her face and the three tankards she had just finished emptying, it must be something serious. He had no idea what had triggered this mood, though: they had enjoyed their latest hunt more than either of them cared to admit and the bounty had been good, twice the promised sum because they'd been able to deliver the four fugitives alive and whole, and it had seemed like a good idea to celebrate with a drink.

Things, however, hadn't gone exactly as planned.

Din was used to not drinking; what he wasn't used to was Cara's mood shifting from cheerful to grumpy in a matter of three beers. She had no reason to be acting so weird, and if there was one, Din couldn't honestly see it.

Cara kept sending him grudging scowls, as though it was all his fault she was so gloomy. They sat in the cantina in silence; Cara kept taking deep breaths and parting her lips, as if to say something, but whatever was lingering on the tip of her tongue wasn't so keen on coming out.

Din didn't dare say anything, because he had this feeling, like something needed to happen and he shouldn't stop it; as long as Cara wouldn't cooperate, however, there wasn't much he could actively do to push the situation toward an improvement.

Cara still had her fingers curled around the handle of the third tankard, her thumbnail absently scraping over the metal.

"Is something-"

“I- I'm-” She scrunched her nose in a funny, frustrated expression. “Screw it,” she hissed after a second. “I need more booze if I'm gonna do this shit.”

She stood up and stormed away, leaving Din with his mouth hanging open. He watched her request something from the bar and a few seconds later she was coming back with a foamy tankard. It was her _fourth_ in less than two hours.

Din nearly jumped when she _slammed_ the tankard on the table, spilling a good part of its content in the process, then yanked her chair from under the table, flipped it around, and sank down straddling it with such a sullen face Din worried a little.

“What's wro-”

“I'm in love with you."

Silence.

Din was so taken aback by such a blunt and grudging admission he didn't really know what to say. There was a lot he _wanted_ to say, starting from something so banal it could be hardly taken into consideration. So all he was able to utter, quite stupidly, was:

"Oh."

It was obviously the wrong thing to say, because it made Cara's frown darken at once.

“Yeah,” she grumbled. “That's what I thought.”

It was still impossible for Din to form thoughts more elaborate than monosyllables. A love confession wasn't exactly the outcome he had been expecting from a day like this. Or _at all._

Cara was _in love with him._

He was grinning like a fool and didn't even have the decency to try to stop it. Cara couldn't see him, anyway, and nor could the other patrons in the cantina. From the outside, he looked like a stately, composed Mandalorian sitting back in his chair in perfect relaxation; underneath his armour, he could barely hold back a nervous laughter. He couldn't believe this was happening.

Still at a loss for words, he was struggling to find something vaguely sensible to reply. He wished Cara could see he wasn't being silent because her affection was unrequited, but for the very opposite reason. Cara, however, was too busy commiserating herself to realise that.

“This is disgusting,” she groaned, downing a long gulp of beer. She grimaced as she slammed the tankard back down. “It sounds even worse than I feared. And this is _not_ a confession, okay?” she clarified, detaching a finger from the tankard to point it at him warningly. “It's like... a PSA. Just so you know.”

Her cheeks were a bright shade of pink; she must feel so warm...

“Should you bring this up while you're so... tipsy?” he asked, maybe a bit too amused by the situation. Why did she look so beautiful, even after so much alcohol?

Cara scoffed.

“ _Drunk,”_ she corrected. “I'm _drunk._ And it's either now or never. I'm already regretting this, by the way. Just as expected.”

Her speech was only slightly slurred, despite her statement. She could hold her alcohol much better than he did.

If Din had been a decent man, he would have put an end to her misery and just told her the truth, which couldn't have been farther from her assumptions. But Din was far from being a decent man, at least in this case, and Cara was so adorable right now, acting all grumpy and miserable.

“I'm not sure this is a good moment to discuss this,” he said, but Cara waved a hand dismissively and cut off whatever he had been about to add.

She took another sip from her beer, grimaced, then shook her head with a deep sigh.

“I'm sorry I ruined... whatever was between us. Respect? Friendship? Trust? I don't know, whatever.” She gave a light shrug without even looking at him. “I just needed to get this off my chest.”

“You didn't ruin anything.”

“Yeah?” Cara finally glanced up, though rather sceptically, and arched her eyebrows at him. “Now what, though? You think we can pretend nothing happened?”

Din smiled to himself. How could she possibly think he would want to forget about this?

“Do you really want to?”

Cara glared, as though he'd just asked the silliest of questions. He couldn't fathom how she had no idea how he felt about her. Then again, _he_ had had no idea she felt this way about him, too...

“How can we be partners if feelings get in the way?” She bit her lip, blushing a little. “I mean, _professional_ partners,” she rectified with a faint groan that seemed directed to herself more than Din. "This is a complication we don't need.”

“I'm sure we can talk our way through this,” he reasoned, scrutinising her intently. “When you're not drunk, that is.”

“I won't be able to talk about this when I'm _not_ drunk, buddy. I don't do this shit.”

“You started this,” he kindly objected, making Cara grimace again, this time in blatant annoyance.

“And if tomorrow I mercifully forget we ever had this talk, _please,_ never bring this up again.”

Din's smile was so wide by now his jaw was starting to hurt. The more he knew this woman, the more he was enamoured of her spirit.

“You're a weird creature, Cara Dune,” he said softly.

Somehow she managed to miss _entirely_ the softness in his voice.

“Tonight's round's on you.” She shot him a threatening scowl. “You owe me.”

“I do?”

“I'm humiliating myself for you. Least you can do is pay for the entertainment.”

Din didn't feel like joking any more. Playing was fun, but if she believed she was humiliating herself he wasn't going to just sit here and _let her._

“Watching you in this state is not entertaining,” he stressed pointedly, then gave an eloquent nod toward the half empty tankard in her hand. “I wish we could have this talk without one of us being drunk.”

“Well, we officially never had this conversation, so you can suck it up,” she retorted amiably.

Din watched wistfully as she brought the tankard to her lips one more time. He let her take a sip, then leant forward and gently pulled the tankard out of her hand. Though reluctantly, she let him.

“We officially never had this conversation,” he said as he set the tankard down, out of her reach. “Because you're the only one who's been doing all the talking.”

He let his words sink him and leant back in his chair.

“This is technically a monologue,” he continued. “And you don't seem very interested in turning this into an actual _dialogue.”_

Cara imitated him and slumped back into her seat.

“You got something to say?” She spread her arms in a defiant invitation. “Please, share.”

She was definitely more than just tipsy, but she seemed to be lucid enough to show off her trademark impudence.

“I don't think either of us will benefit from that, as of now,” he argued in his most reasonable tone, hoping it wouldn't irritate more than she already was. Of course, it _did._

“Coward,” she spat, facing away as she stubbornly crossed her arms over her chest. He could spot the exact moment she realised what she'd said when he noticed her shoulders tense and her eyes fleetingly dart in his direction. Even her guilty look was lovely.

Din offered her a chance make amends.

“You want to take it back?”

“Yes,” she grunted, her cheeks turning a brighter shade of pink. “I'm sorry.”

“I know you didn't mean it,” he conceded. He was so weak for those beautiful dark eyes, it was unfair: he didn't have any weapon to respond to such a merciless attack.

Oblivious to his thoughts, Cara put her elbows on the table and buried her face into her hands with a loud groan.

“Why have you been putting up with my drunken nonsense?”

Din bent his head to one side, his smile growing warmer.

“You've been babbling very interesting nonsense.”

“Don't tease me,” she whined, pressing her face deeper into her hands.

“I _will_ tease you about this,” he assured. “But not for the reason you think.”

“I'm sorry I blurted everything,” she moaned, as if she hadn't even been listening to him. She most likely hadn't. Din wasn't even surprised: she was still so caught in her self-commiseration she couldn't see past her own nose. In normal conditions, she would have sensed his amusement a while ago, and wouldn't have let it slip.

“Don't be,” he soothed. “It was very brave of you.”

“Yeah,” she snorted, casting a dark glance at the empty tankards before her. _“Liquid courage.”_

“How about we call it a night? I think you've had enough of that.”

Cara was definitely not paying any attention to what he was saying.

“I want to pass out and forget _everything.”_

“That would be very counterproductive after such a big step forward, don't you think?”

Cara peeked at him through her fingers.

“What's that supposed to mean?”

It was supposed to mean a whole number of things, none of which she would be able to process, right now.

Din stood up, circled around the table, the kid's pram floating behind him, and held out his hand to Cara.

“Come on, let's get you out of here. You need a shower and a good sleep.”

Cara lowered her hands and eyed his open palm for a while before finally taking his hand.

“You gonna help me shower?” she inquired as he pulled her up.

Din let out a small, indulgent laugh.

“Not while you're in this state, no.”

Cara rolled her eyes with a groan.

“You and your kriffing _principles.”_

She absently let him wrap an arm around her shoulders and guide her toward the exit. Din chuckled when her own arm spontaneously found its way around his waist.

“You'll thank me, tomorrow.”

“You're not allowed to mention _any_ of this, tomorrow.”

Din could feel it loud and clear, the thing he'd been dying to say since the very beginning of this conversation, burning on the tip of his tongue, desperate to come out. But he couldn't just bring it up now: Cara was not herself and he didn't really want to say it here, in a lousy cantina, with Cara in this pitiful state. She deserved better than this. She deserved something memorable.

“There's something you should probably know,” he said as they stepped out into the fresh air of the night.

“And what is it?” Cara wondered. She couldn't walk straight: if it hadn't been for Din guiding her, he doubted she would have been able to get back to the ship by herself. But Din _was_ there, of course. He'd always be there for her.

“I'll tell you when you're sober.”

“Why not now?”

Din was eagerly anticipating the inevitable awkwardness of tomorrow's conversation. He pulled Cara a little closer, grinning like a smug, sentimental idiot.

“I have a feeling you'll want to remember it.”

**Author's Note:**

> You guys know what Din is going to say tomorrow, right? ;) It just occurred to me that this oneshot would actually be a perfect excuse for a follow up where they actually talk about THAT... maybe I'll think about it! 😉
> 
> Feed comments to my hungry muse? ❤
> 
> P.S. little update
> 
> Edit by the amazing [Mandalorianess](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Mandalorianess/pseuds/Mandalorianess)


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